Chapter 441 Rice's Choice

Deputy Director Zhao slammed the budget sheet on the table, spilling tea that soaked the words "200 billion".

"He Yuzhu, are you crazy? The entire Kunlun ship only costs four billion, and you're asking for two hundred billion for just one ring. That's enough to build five Kunlun ships. How am I supposed to explain this to my superiors when I get back?"

There were over twenty people in the conference room, but no one uttered a sound. The ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts; some people were flipping through their notebooks, while others stared at the tea leaves in their teacups. He Yuzhu sat in the main seat, a puddle of water in front of him slowly spreading and seeping into the wood grain of the tabletop.

He didn't wipe it.

"Director Zhao, the Kunlun doesn't have warp drive; it's just an ordinary ship. It'll orbit Earth a few times, take a few photos, and then be decommissioned. With this ring, it can fly out of the solar system. At 10% of the speed of light, it would take less than an hour to get from Earth to Mars. Which do you choose?"

Deputy Director Zhao shoved his cigarette butt into the ashtray, but too hard, and ash splattered out. "Don't talk to me about the speed of light. I only look at the numbers. Two hundred billion, and the National Defense Science and Technology Commission's budget this year is only four billion. You've eaten up five years' worth of budget with one project. What about everyone else?"

He Yuzhu picked up his teacup and found the water had gone cold. He put the cup down and didn't drink it.

"The Science and Technology Commission's budget doesn't need to be touched. I just need the state to provide 3 billion yuan, and I'll figure out the rest myself."

Director Zhou from the Planning Commission looked up. "Figure it out yourself? How much revenue does the Chengshan Research Institute generate in a year?"

"Last year it was 1.2 billion, and this year it's estimated to be 1.8 billion. I can raise 5 billion in two years. In addition, I will borrow 2 billion from banks. The first year's 8 billion will leave a shortfall of 3 billion, which will require government support."

Director Zhou scribbled a few lines in his notebook, then crossed them out. "Three billion is a lot. Healthcare, education, and agriculture are all waiting for funding. Could you postpone this project for a couple of years?"

He Yuzhu's hand stopped on the teacup handle.

Then he slowly withdrew his hand and placed it on the table.

"We can't delay."

The two words were spoken very softly, but everyone stopped flipping through the paper at the same time.

"The Americans are training biological warriors in Antarctica. The Soviets deployed the Hero 3 in Afghanistan." He listed them off one by one, his voice not loud, but each name sounded like a stone thrown onto a table. "They're throwing money at military technology. We'll wait two years, and their biological warriors will be able to fight in space, while our Kunlun won't even have a chance."

Chief Designer Sun from the Ministry of Aerospace took off his glasses and wiped them on the hem of his clothes. "Dean He, I support the construction of the ring system. But could we build a ten-meter one first? It would only cost a few hundred million yuan, and it would also be good for verifying the technology."

Qian Zhiyuan leaned over He Yuzhu. "The curvature effect of a ten-meter ring is too small. Galaxy VI has simulated it, and a diameter of at least fifty meters is needed to measure space compression. One hundred meters is the ideal value, and fifty meters is the minimum."

Chief Engineer Sun put his glasses back on and didn't say anything more.

Director Li of the Fifth Academy slammed his teacup on the table. "Director He, you've launched the 100-meter loop project, and all the nation's aerospace resources are tilting towards you. The Kunlun spacecraft is still under construction, quantum communication is under development, and manned spaceflight is in preliminary research. You've taken all the money; what are the others supposed to do?"

He Yuzhu looked at Dean Li.

Dean Li's gaze didn't waver, but his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Dean Li, I'm not trying to take other people's money." He Yuzhu opened the notebook in front of him, which was filled with numbers. "I only need 3 billion yuan in government support for the first year. I'll solve the remaining 5 billion yuan myself. Under the technology sharing framework, we can sell civilian technology to the US and the Soviet Union. Seawater desalination membranes, LED plant lights, and synthetic ammonia processes are more advanced than theirs, and they have demand for them."

Deputy Director Zhao sneered. "Selling technology to the US and the Soviet Union? Aren't you afraid they'll steal it?"

"We only sell outdated technology. They can't afford the advanced stuff." He Yuzhu's voice deepened, like a stone falling into deep water. "We sell second-generation desalination membranes, but we use fifth-generation ones ourselves. We sell first-generation high-speed steel rolls, but we use third-generation ones ourselves. We maintain a technological gap of more than two generations, so even if they try to learn, they can't catch up."

Old Sun sat in the corner, twirling a pencil in his hand. He hadn't spoken for a long time.

At this point, he spoke up. "Director He, the intelligence agencies of the US and the Soviet Union are ubiquitous. If we sell technology, won't they try to steal our core technologies through the purchase channels?"

He Yuzhu turned to look at him. "That's why we have to be selective about our clients. The technology sold to the United States goes through formal trade channels, is imported by American companies, and is overseen by the US government. They take our technology and consider it their own achievement, so they won't hand it over to the military. The technology sold to the Soviet Union is transshipped through a third country, so the Soviets don't know who the seller is."

Old Sun placed the pencil on the table. "What if they gang up on us and deliberately refuse to buy, forcing our cash flow to dry up?"

The meeting room fell silent.

He Yuzhu remained silent for three seconds.

"Then we'll make it ourselves. We'll sell everything we own."

Deputy Director Zhao pushed his chair back, stood up, and the chair legs scraped against the ground with a screeching sound. He walked to the window, his back to everyone, and put his hands in his pockets.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting his dark shadow on the long table.

"He Yuzhu." He didn't turn around. "You want me to sign this? My hands are shaking. Two hundred billion yuan. The people in the drought-stricken Northwest are still waiting for wells to be drilled. If this project goes through, everything will be fine. If it fails, you and I will be sinners in history."

He Yuzhu stood up, walked to Deputy Director Zhao's side, and the two stood side by side in front of the window.

Outside the window stretched the Gobi Desert. The yellowish-brown earth stretched to the horizon, and in the distance, a launch tower gleamed silvery-white in the sunlight.

"Director Zhao, if this project succeeds, we'll be drilling wells all the way to Mars in the Northwest."

Deputy Director Zhao turned to look at him. He Yuzhu did not avoid his gaze.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds.

Deputy Director Zhao walked back to his desk, picked up a pen, and signed his name in the budget approval section. The strokes were heavy, and you could feel the indentation on the back of the paper.

"I signed it. But there's one condition—this project requires the mobilization of national resources. The Chinese Academy of Sciences, universities, and state-owned enterprises all need to participate. If problems arise, you won't be the only one to shoulder the responsibility."

He Yuzhu nodded. "I understand. Many people, many companies; no individualism."

The meeting adjourned.

People gradually left the conference room. Deputy Director Zhao walked in front, his leather shoes clicking on the terrazzo floor, the sound fading into the distance. Director Zhou whispered something to Dean Li as he walked, while Chief Engineer Sun was the last to leave, glancing back at He Yuzhu as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

He Yuzhu stood by the window without moving.

Old Sun walked over and stood next to him.

"Director He, your last sentence was too harsh. Deputy Director Zhao's face changed."

"It's good that I'm heavier. They'll know I'm serious when I'm heavier."

Old Sun took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to He Yuzhu. It was titled "Technology Export Classification List". The first level listed seawater desalination membranes, LED plant lights, and synthetic ammonia processes; the second level listed high-speed steel rolls and some equipment for integrated circuit production lines; and the third level listed carbon nanotubes, high-temperature superconductivity, quantum communication, and curvature actuation.

"Not selling even one piece of the third-level item?" Old Sun asked.

"Not a single piece will be sold. Anyone who dares to take it out will be court-martialed."

Old Sun folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. "Director He, is it really possible to raise 20 billion?"

He Yuzhu turned around, walked back to the table, and picked up the budget sheet that was soaked with tea. The three words "200 billion" on the paper were blurred, but they were still legible.

"I'll cover 5 billion of the 8 billion for the first year myself. I'll borrow the remaining 3 billion from banks. In the second and third years, revenue from technology exports will increase, and perhaps the government won't need to contribute that much. But saying 20 billion is an overestimation of the difficulties. If we say less, we'll be in a more passive position when it's not enough."

Old Sun nodded, turned around and left.

The meeting room was empty. Sunlight streamed from the window, moving from the table to the wall, then from the wall to the ceiling. A cigarette butt in the ashtray still emitted a thin wisp of smoke, like a thread about to break.

He Yuzhu folded the budget sheet and stuffed it into his shirt pocket—actually transferring it to the system space. He picked up the glass of cold tea on the table, took a sip, and the bitterness spread across his tongue.

Then he walked out of the conference room.

The corridor was long; the motion-activated lights turned on as he passed and went out behind him. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, one after another, like some ancient rhythm.

The elevator doors opened, he stepped inside, and pressed the button for the basement level.

Before the door closed, he heard someone call him from behind.

"Dean He."

It was Old Sun. He stood at the end of the corridor, holding a briefcase, panting, clearly having jogged over.

"What is it?"

"I forgot to ask—if the US and the Soviet Union really don't buy our technology, how will we make up the funding gap?"

He Yuzhu's hand rested on the elevator door frame.

"Then reduce. Reduce equipment, reduce personnel, reduce everything that can be reduced. Just don't reduce the diameter of the ring."

Old Sun paused for a moment. "Aren't you afraid that in the end, after all the reductions, the ring will be built, but there won't be anything on it?"

He Yuzhu released his grip, and the elevator doors slowly closed.

His last words came through the crack in the door: "First you need bones, then you won't have trouble growing flesh."

The elevator began to descend.